


I Don't Mind

by shuckfaceparadise (isaacfignewton)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Finger Sucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Pre-Thomas Era, So yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacfignewton/pseuds/shuckfaceparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sky was the same, oddly-orange blue it always was, but that was all Newt noticed before he was grabbed from behind, hand covering his mouth and a body pressed hard against his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and happy New Year's! Have some Minewt smut (with a hint of angst) to start your year!

It was late when Newt left Homestead, hours after the others had grown quiet and stopped moving, slipping deep into sleep. He hadn’t managed to, too aware of what was waiting for him when he managed to get outside– what was needed of him. The door let out a creak when it opened, but not loud enough to wake any of the other Gladers, and with a soft sigh, he slipped into the cooler air.

The sky was the same, oddly-orange blue it always was, but that was all Newt noticed before he was grabbed from behind, hand covering his mouth and a body pressed hard against his back. He made a strangled sort of whimper against the hand, feeling a cock already half-hard pressed against his ass, and he grinded back against it, the breathing in his ear getting heavier. Before he could push harder, or start to lick at the hand, Minho pulled off him, grinning.

“I was wondering when you’d come out, shuck-face. I’ve been waiting,” he said, taking Newt’s hand and leading them across the Glade. In the dim light, Newt could see they were headed towards the garden’s shed.

“Sorry. The boys around me wouldn’t stop shifting and I couldn’t tell if they were actually asleep or not,” he said, glancing guiltily over at Minho. “Turns out one of them wasn’t, so they think I’m just in the bathroom.” Minho raised his eyebrow at the statement, seeming to consider it.

When they were near the shed was when Minho finally moved, responding to the statement by pushing Newt hard against the wood and pulling a moan out of him, hand spread out over his chest and thumb lazily stroking over his nipple, driving him insane. He squirmed when Minho moved closer, breath tickling his hairline.

“So, what you’re saying is we don’t have a lot of time, right?” he whispered and Newt nodded, head falling back when Minho pressed his thigh forward, slipping it in-between Newt’s legs and grinding them together. He covered Newt’s mouth again when his moans grew too loud, then took his hand off of his chest.

Newt had a moment to make an unhappy sound, afraid he was being punished– Minho did that sometimes, not letting him come, not touching him enough until he had gotten on his knees and given Minho everything he could, let the larger boy fuck into him like only someone surprised he was alive could– before both of Minho’s hands were in his hair, pulling his head forwards to make their lips connect, opening at the first touch. It was messy and bitter, teeth clacking and lip biting bringing the irony tang of blood into the equation, and Newt moaned, bucking forward and feeling a returning hardness pressing against his hip.

Finally, they broke apart and Newt let out a desperate whimper, trying to follow, but Minho stumbled backwards, grinning at him before angling slightly to his left and grabbing the lock of the door to the shed. He had it open in moments, and winked at Newt before slipping inside. Newt almost stumbled in his haste to follow, elbow clacking painfully on the door when he pulled it shut behind him.

In an instant he was back against the wall, wood rough where his shirt was rucked up and mouth opened wide for Minho to teasingly lick in, feeling the ridges of the roof of Newt’s mouth and sucking sweetly on his tongue. Newt moaned at the suction, hands scrabbling at Minho’s back, slipping down to his ass to pull him closer, grinding them together and gasping at the contact. Their legs were interlocked, puzzle-pieces clicking together desperately, the friction driving them crazy as it got harder and harder.

It was Minho who broke the kiss, throwing his head back with a breathy moan, one hand sliding behind Newt to hold him closer and the other slipping into his hair, pulling it hard when Newt attached himself to Minho’s neck, sucking and biting lightly.

He paused, breathing harshly and felt Minho give a desperate buck. Slowly, he returned to licking Minho’s neck, liking the taste of the sweat and the smell of the Glade that was ingrained in Minho’s skin. He wished he could leave marks, but Minho was determined to keep them secret from the other Gladers– to never let anyone know about the affectionate glances Minho would cast at Newt when he was done, when he had pulled every last whimper out of the blonde boy and given every last sloppy kiss and desperate touch he had to give.

 _But I don’t mind,_ Newt thought desperately, bucking into Minho as he forced the pace to pick up again. Minho was close. He could tell by the breathy grunts he had grown so used to, and when he dragged his mouth below Minho’s collarbone, where shirts always covered, and _bit_ , teeth digging in to the skin and tongue darting out to taste the irony tang and smooth over the indent before biting again, Minho keened, pace becoming jagged.

The moan broke somewhere near the end, and Minho slumped against Newt, mumbling into his neck.

“You’re so good for me. So good. Taste so good,” he said, tongue slipping out to drag up to Newt’s ear, lips wrapping around his earlobe.  Newt’s head fell back, hitting the wall with a thunk and letting Minho take control. He seemed to be in slow motion, hands sliding out of Newt’s hair and pants to rest on his buckle, slowly undoing it and pulling Newt’s pants down. His hands caressed Newt’s thighs slowly and Newt wanted to sob, thrusting forward the tiniest bit as Minho continued to talk to him. “Because you’re a good boy, aren’t you? My good boy,” he said, hands tightening around Newt’s thighs and prompting a drawn-out moan.

Minho had never been quite as gentle as he was being now, sliding down to his knees and mouthing along the outline of Newt’s cock in his underwear. Newt was ready to burst, to full of pleasure from the sensations assaulting his skin and the odd, tingly feeling spreading through him as Minho kept muttering ‘good boy’ against his skin like an apology.

Finally, Minho pulled his underwear down, freeing his cock and making an appreciative sound when it bobbed against his lips. He started kissing along it and Newt moaned, loud and broken, cutting off only when he felt Minho smiling against his hip, having gone to kiss it.

“Shh,” he murmured, one hand sliding around Newt’s hip to have more control over him and other hands sliding up to tweak a nipple before slipping a finger into Newt’s mouth, prompting a surprised noise before Newt moaned around it.

Newt didn’t know this could feel so good, sucking sweetly at Minho’s fingers and licking between them when Minho slipped another in, stretching his mouth open. He was so focused on the feeling of Minho’s fingers heavy on his tongue that he didn’t notice Minho’s mouth getting closer to him until it was on him, sucking the head of his cock into that soft mouth.

He tried to buck into it but Minho’s hand tightened, leading him carefully. Slowly, Minho took more in, making low moans at the bitter taste of pre-come leaking from Newt’s cock. When he was halfway down, he paused, hollowing his cheeks to suck harder. Newt gasped around his fingers and he took the chance to carefully slip a third in, loving the stretch of Newt’s lips around them and the sweet way he started to suck, the way his moans vibrated Minho’s bones.

It wasn’t long before Newt was shaking, legs barely holding him up as Minho sunk further and further down onto him, sucking harder and harder until he could barely even feel the rest of his body, feeling radiating only from where he was sucking and being sucked.

Then, a burst of white behind his eyelids and a burst of white splattering into Minho’s mouth, it was over, aftershocks shaking him harder and causing him to moan around Minho’s fingers again, tendrils of spit slipping out of his mouth and running down his chin as he lost control, legs jerking and arms scratching at the walls beside him, gouging the wood deep.

When Newt was completely soft, Minho stood, feeling his knees creak and ache but ignoring them in favor of the look on Newt’s face– it was content, calm. Newt may think this was all for Minho, but Minho knew differently, knew how it felt for Newt. He knew the way Newt needed to be taken care of, with soft words and rough hands, desperate touches and the lack of control.

He slipped his fingers out of Newt’s mouth, stroking Newt’s cheek with the spit-slicked fingers until the boy opened his eyes. He gave a small, scared smile at Minho’s gaze, flinching back from it.

“What?” he asked, hands reaching to cross over his chest, guarding himself. As soon as he made the movement, however, Minho’s hands left his cheeks and were taking his wrists, pinning him back against the wall. Newt sighed, head falling forwards onto Minho’s shoulder.

“Shh, that’s my good boy. So good, aren’t you? _Newt_. You’re my good boy. And I took care of you, didn’t I?” Minho said, lips scraping Newt’s ear with every word. The boy’s body was slumping further and further as he let go of his surviving tension. When Minho’s hands finally released him, he sighed, tentatively reaching up to hold onto Minho’s shoulders. He nodded, and felt the movement of Minho’s lips, curling into a smile. “You did so good,” he said, before cupping Newt’s face and kissing him softly, close-lipped and so, so gently.

When he pulled back he thought he felt Newt’s lips tremble, and his eyes looked suspiciously shiny before he blinked the tears away, smiling at Minho like he had just seen the sun for the first time.

“We should… go back separately, huh?” he asked, voice trembling. Minho frowned, nodding.

“Want me to go first?” he offered, confused at the change of Newt’s tone, the way he seemed to be falling apart and together at the same time. Newt shrugged, then nodded, slipping out of Minho’s arms to sit on the ground, gazing up at Minho. He nodded towards the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said, smiling at Minho. For a second, Minho considered calling him out on his bluff, but then just rolled his eyes, unseen in the darkness. He leaned down to kiss Newt’s forehead once, and gave a small wave.

Then, he left, and Newt finally let himself cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me about grammar errors and please tell me if fic sucks, thanks (it's my first time writing Minewt, I'm nervous)!
> 
> As always, check me out on tumblr at [shuckfaceparadise](http://shuckfaceparadise.tumblr.com). I make edits and write things and it's pretty cool.


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